


Step Closer

by pocket_infinity



Series: Flame & Frost, Heart & Soul [5]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slow Dancing, i reference a previous fic in the series, it's like mid-speed dancing, not-so-slow dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_infinity/pseuds/pocket_infinity
Summary: Grimm has yet to dance with the Pale King, but that is going to change tonight—and at a royal ball, no less.
Relationships: Grimm/The Pale King (Hollow Knight), The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Series: Flame & Frost, Heart & Soul [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857532
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Step Closer

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe i just wanted to write more dancing

It was like their first date all over again.

Grimm was stuck choosing between three different ties, tying and untying them over and over as he desperately tried to decide which looked best with his current suit—perhaps he needed a different suit? He glanced at the watch on his wrist; there wasn’t time for that. He leaned out the tent flap that served at the door to his room.

“Brumm!” He shouted.

“Mrm. Is it clothes-”

“Yes, it’s clothes again!” Grimm replied.

“Mrm… I’m not your mother, Grimm,” Brumm said as he grew nearer. “You can pick out clothes for yourself.”

“Look, sometimes a second opinion is nice, okay?” Grimm asked frantically as he grabbed his mirror and stood it against his clothes cabinet. “Now which tie?” He asked, holding up the three slightly different shades of red tie.

“Hrmm…” Brumm started as he stared at them before glancing up at the white lumafly lanterns lighting the tent. “So we’re under white light?”

“Yes,” Grimm replied.

“None of them,” Brumm replied. “Put on your red tux jacket and wear a black bowtie.”

“Which red?” Grimm asked as he threw the large mirror aside and flung open the cabinet, revealing over ten different shades of red tuxedo jacket.

“Second from the left,” Brumm replied without even glancing over his shoulder.

“You didn’t even look,” Grimm said, his head swiveling to glare at Brumm.

“Mrm. Your clothes are well-organized, Master; I know which colors are where after doing this every third time you go out. Now second from the left.”

“Fine,” Grimm replied, flinging off the black jacket and tossing it onto his bed before grabbing the deep mahogany red one. “Could you grab me a black tie? They’re-”

“I know where they are, Grimm,” Brumm replied as he flipped open a trunk on the floor and removed a black bowtie. “Catch,” he said, tossing it to Grimm.

The Troupe Master stuffed his arm through one of the arms of the jacket before snatching the tie from the air. He laid it over his shoulder haphazardly before getting the jacket the rest of the way on, and once that was done, he finally hastily tied it around his neck. He reached for the mirror as he kicked the cabinet door closed before standing the mirror against it and stepping back. He turned his head this way and that before his anxious frown turned to a much more disappointed one as he caught sight of the scar over his right eye: a crack ran just a little bit up and a little bit down from the middle of his eye, a red glow emanating from it just like with his eyes proper.

“Mrm. Don’t worry about it, Master,” Brumm said as he patted Grimm on the back. “It fits your aesthetic.”

“Does it?” Grimm asked quietly as he turned towards Brumm.

“It does,” Brumm replied. “And you know it doesn’t matter, ultimately.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that this is the first time I’m going to have danced with him, and it’s in  _ public _ , and I want to look  _ perfect _ for him-”

“Grimm.” Brumm cut off. “You know he’s already almost going to pass out with the way you look now.”

“Thank you, Brumm,” Grimm replied, blushing slightly.

“Mrm, of course. Now you need to get going, don’t-”

Grimm checked his watch. “Oh no,” he said as his eyes widened. “Minute late already,” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he vanished in a puff of red smoke.

He reappeared just at the end of the bridge to the palace, smoothing out his jacket and adjusting his tie as he walked across it, finding nobles walking near him, almost all of them dressed in their palest white. At least he wasn’t the only one who was a minute late. Without even looking, he could feel the dozens of eyes on him, but he shut his own for a moment and continued on, taking a deep breath as he did.

“Do you see him yet?” The Pale King asked the White Lady anxiously as he scanned the ballroom floor, swirling his glass of water.

“He’d be rather visible, dear,” the root replied, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder; she’d have gone for the head, but the wyrm’s horn extensions had proven time and time again to be rather… inconvenient.

“Yes, I know, but you’ve got a good vantage point,” the wyrm replied.

“I suppose I do,” she replied with a smile, reaching her hand down for him to take.

“Thank you,” the Pale King said as he grasped her hand firmly. He would have leaned his weight into her, but that wouldn’t have been particularly “regal” for a king to do.

“Of course—oh, there he is!” She said, pointing towards the door subtly enough to not draw excessive attention.

Her efforts were in vain, however, as within seconds of Grimm’s entrance, the room had grown quiet as nobles paused their conversations to stare at him, giving only the occasional hushed whisper. Grimm simply stood frozen, seemingly in shock despite his profession as a performer. A scowl crossed the Pale King’s face and his jaw clenched before he let go of his root’s hand and began to move forwards. He gently pushed others aside as he slipped through the room, letting the bitterness for the aristocrats of Hallownest fall from his face as he grew nearer to Grimm. He smiled as he finally managed to break into the empty space around Grimm, and the Troupe Master smiled back when he saw the wyrm’s face, his nervousness beginning to melt away.

“We are glad you made it, Grimm,” the Pale King said as he continued to walk towards him. “Come. We and our lady would be quite excited to speak to you.” The murmuring of nobles immediately filled the room as the King extended his hand with a smirk.

“As would I with you,” Grimm replied, taking his hand with a similar grin and letting the wyrm lead him towards the back of the room. “For a reclusive king, you seem to be a fan of drawing attention to yourself when you  _ are _ in public,” he whispered.

“Well maybe I like making a scene once in a while,” the King replied, glancing back at him.

“Flirt,” Grimm responded.

“Come on, just this way,” the wyrm said, slipping through the crowd until he managed to make it back to the White Lady.

“Good to see you, Grimm,” she said with a smile. The wyrm simply stared at Grimm, a haze beginning to fill his eyes.

“You too,” Grimm responded before silence began to dominate the space between the two as the gentle background conversation of chattering aristocrats filled in the background.

“Okay, come on, hug,” the White Lady said, opening her arms.

“There are a lot of people watching…” Grimm said quietly.

“And I don’t care,” the White Lady responded happily. Grimm chuckled before leaning into the hug, letting the root squeeze him tightly.

“Uhm-” Grimm said as she tightened her grip. “Too tight. Can’t breathe.”

“Oh goodness,” she replied, loosening her hold and stepping back. “I forget how thin you are sometimes.”

“Ah, it’s more than alright,” Grimm said, brushing his jacket straight once again. “Your hugs are always nice.”

“Your jacket looks really good, Grimm,” the wyrm said, not taking his eyes off of Grimm as he blushed.

“Thank you,” Grimm said, feigning a relaxed tone. “You look as ravishing as ever, my wyrm.”

“Th-thanks,” the Pale King responded.

“Six months and he still gets flustered at compliments,” Grimm said to the White Lady.

“Try a few thousand years,” the queen replied. “But he is adorable, isn’t he?”

“So very cute,” Grimm said.

“Guys…” the King said. “Stop making me blush, we’re in public.”

“Hey, it’s your fault for looking so cute,” Grimm replied, exacerbating the wyrm’s blush even more. The Pale King simply looked down as he blushed even more. Grimm and the White Lady smirked at each other.

“That jacket really does suit you, though, Grimm,” she stated, trying to stave off a giggle at her husband’s current state.

“Was that a pun?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It is now that you’ve mentioned it,” the White Lady responded.

“Oh, damn it,” Grimm said. “And I thought  _ I _ was supposed to be the devilish one.”

“Seems you’ve been usurped,” the wyrm replied as he looked up, having finally stopped blushing.

“Such improper language for a royal ball,” the root commented, shaking her head with a smile.

“Propriety is hardly something that exists around me,” Grimm replied with a smirk.

“Uh, Grimm…” the wyrm started.

“Yes?” He replied.

“I-I was going to dance with my root first this evening, if it’s okay with you,” the King said.

“Dear, again, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the White Lady stated.

“No no, I do want to!” The wyrm insisted before turning to Grimm. “I just-”

Grimm placed a finger over his mouth. “It’s more than fine, dear. I just want to dance with you at some point tonight.”

“We will,” the wyrm said with a gentle smile before taking a sip of his water.

“Then tonight will be perfect, no matter what else happens,” Grimm replied, smiling in return. “Oh, do you have wine, by the way?”

“Red wine?”

“Red wine.”

“I’m not sure…” the King replied. “We could always ask a server.”

“Good idea,” Grimm said. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” He stepped away, moving towards the crowd, where various people holding trays lined with glasses of champagne and white wine wandered, giving them out to all nobles who asked.

“Excuse me,” he said, tapping one of the servers on the shoulder. Seemingly every muscle in their body locked up when they saw him, jittering the glasses on their tray for a moment. “Hello.”

“H-hi,” they managed to respond a moment later, their voice borderline quivering. “Can I get you anything?”

“I was just wondering if you happened to have any red wines in the back,” Grimm said, letting his usual foxy tone come through. “It’s quite fine if you don’t.”

“I-I’ll go check,” the server replied, hastily walking off.

“Red wine?” A voice asked beside him. Just from the voice alone, Grimm could  _ feel _ how raised their brow was. He turned slowly, reveling in how they tensed slightly when they caught sight of his eyes.

“Is there a problem?” He asked.

“No, none at all,” the noble said with a subtle sarcasm. “I was simply noting your… unique drink choice. Your dress seems to match it, too.”

“Indeed it does; though, I might ask, what do you mean by ‘unique’?” Grimm replied, pushing the issue.

“Ah, it just seems to be rather  _ unusual _ , especially given the palette of our current location,” they responded, their tone growing more blunt.

“Well,” Grimm said, “I had thought it rather clear that anyone with half a bit of fashion sense would be able to discern that white is a color I most certainly do not look good in.”

“Your wine, s-sir,” the server said as they returned, handing him a glass of red wine. “I’m afraid it’s the only kind we have.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright. Thank you for going through the trouble,” he said, taking a sip of it and looking at the noble from the corner of his eye. “Well,” he said to them, “it was lovely talking to you, but I have other matters to attend to.” He gave a single curl of the fingers as a wave before slipping back through the crowd towards his wyrm.

“Got my wine,” Grimm said as he returned to his lover’s side. “Also got insulted by some bastard of an aristocrat.”

The Pale King looked at him, eyes cold and steely. “Which one?” He said.

“Oh no, it’s quite fine, dear; I got them back.”

“What did they say?” The White Lady asked.

“They said my dress was inappropriate—not in those exact words, of course.”

“And what did you say back?” She continued.

“That they had no fashion sense,” Grimm replied with a smirk. The White Lady let out a small giggle, covering it with her hand.

“Those exact words?” The Pale King asked.

“Oh no, much more indirect,” Grimm replied. “Should’ve said it like that though. Ah well.” He shrugged one shoulder so as to not spill his wine.

“I think they might have thrown a fit If you had,” the King said, swirling his water before taking a sip. “Not complaining; I would’ve loved for some excitement at one of these.”

“I’ll be sure to be direct if it happens again,” Grimm said with a smile as the music from the hired players began to fill the room. “Dancing already?”

“Half the guests arrived an hour early. They’re usually antsy by this time.”

“Ah, that’ll do it,” Grimm responded, moving towards the area now clearing of people for those who would dance. The White Lady and the Pale King stayed behind, one of them being able to watch from much farther away.

Grimm stood on the sidelines, carefully watching the nobiles who danced and noting every single little mistake in footing, posture, speed, and movement. Every so often, he shook his head at a particularly egregious mistake. He noted the music, too, though he was much more gentle with where he placed his mental criticisms because they were likely halfway to trembling, given the fact that they had been hired to play at the palace. He couldn’t criticize someone’s nerves, not when he’d experienced just the same many times over.

Eventually, after what was an insufferably long time studying borderline incompetent dancers, Grimm heard the crowd behind him part, the dancers on the floor clearing as well for the approach of the king and queen of Hallownest. Grimm stepped to the side as well, smiling at the two of them. They snuck a glance at him from the corner of their eyes and smiled back as they made their way onto the floor.

Their dance was a rather standard one for the most part, but Grimm still found himself impressed by the perfection of each step. Just because something was standard didn’t mean it was easy to get perfect, and yet he spotted not a single flaw in any portion of the dance as they glided across the floor. A few thousand years of being together would do that, he supposed.

Eventually, though, their dance came to a close, both of them smiling at each other with a quiet, calm love before the White Lady moved away from the floor. The nobles began to close in towards the floor for barely a moment before the King cut in.

“We would ask that you keep the floor clear for a moment, as there is one dance yet to be performed,” he said, looking at Grimm. The Troupe Master felt his heart jump at the bold gesture as he moved through the murmuring crowd and out to the floor, continuing towards the King.

“Hello,” he said quietly as he approached.

“Hello,” the wyrm replied, too quiet for anyone other than Grimm to hear.

“So, which dance?” Grimm asked, extending his hand towards the King.

“I’ve got a rather unique one in store, so just follow my lead for a moment, and I’ll think you’ll know it from there,” the Pale King replied, taking Grimm’s hand.

“As you wish,” Grimm responded, letting the King begin to lead him in a series of steps ever so similar to a waltz, but with ever so slight alterations in a few steps. Purposeful alterations, like something someone would make for a… performance… 

“You saw my show,” Grimm whispered.

“Yes,” the wyrm replied. “Brumm did the disguising.”

“Clever bastard…” Grimm said quietly. “Do one quick spin and I’ll take the lead.”

“Sounds perfect,” the wyrm responded.

Grimm lifted his hand, letting the King barely keep contact with it as he executed one perfect twirl and smoothly transferring the lead of the dance to Grimm. He led them through the dance for a few more steps before coming close to whisper again.

“I’m going to make a few alterations. Just go with them.”

“Alright,” the Pale King responded.

Sure enough, a moment later, Grimm spun the King into his chest with one arm before grabbing the King’s other hand with his other arm and spinning him back out, keeping the momentum moving until the end of their arms. He brought the King back in from there before stepping away and letting him spin on his own for a moment until he slowed down, at which point Grimm stepped back in to lead it like a semi-normal dance. The crowd’s “whispering” had grown to speaking volume at this point, but neither of the gods seemed to notice, let alone care.

“Ready for the big spin?” Grimm asked.

“Yep,” the King responded.

“Then here we go,” Grimm said.

The Pale King held his arms out slightly, letting Grimm take hold of his hands and begin to spin him about a time and a half—just enough to get speed but not stand out compared to the rest of the dance. Grimm stepped away, letting go with one hard flick at the end, and the wyrm brought his arms above his hands, accelerating his spin to what would have been a dizzying speed for anyone but him. Grimm stepped back, smiling gently at the display as the crowd’s noise moved to full-on conversation. He waited just a few moments before stepping back in, gripping the wyrm’s hips, and lifting him from the ground into his own spin. The King went stiff, just as his copy had in the performance. How many hours had he practiced for this?

Grimm put him back down as the spin ended, and, instead of turning his back like had happened in the performance, he held the King for a moment longer before dipping him back and leaning forward, keeping eye contact the entire time. The wyrm’s surprise was visible, but he moved with the dance nonetheless. The crowd audibly gasped as they stayed there for a couple moments before Grimm brought him back up and curled the King into himself, the wyrm’s back resting against his chest as the two looked at each other from the corners of their eyes.

Grimm waited just a moment longer than normal before letting his wyrm go, the two of them bowing to each other at the end before walking away from the floor together, the crowd having grown far louder than they should have been by the end of the performance.

“You know,” Grimm said as they moved out of the crowd. “I think the entire kingdom is going to be on to our relationship after this.”

“As if they weren’t already,” the King responded with a smile.

“Well it was just gossip before. Now there’s clear, supporting evidence.”

“You know what?” The King started. “I don’t think I mind that.” He smiled. Grimm smiled in return.

“Neither do I,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> they're so sweet together i love them. I will die for this ship.
> 
> @pocket-infinity on tumblr


End file.
